


now you know me (and i'm not afraid)

by ohallows



Series: sasha week 2021 [4]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (kinda?), Childhood Trauma, Domestic Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gang Violence, Gen, Healing from trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Canon, [POINTS] THATS HER DAD, sasha's childhood is heavily referenced so just that as a whole trigger tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: The girl sitting in the chair across from Bi Ming looks like she’s carrying the weight of the world on one shoulder and a massive chip on the other. She’s young, maybe about 16 years old, rail-thin (too thin) and nearly deathly pale, with her dark hair, shorn short and uneven by an unskilled hand, hanging lifelessly around her face. A product of Other London, sat in his shop like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world but there.
Relationships: Bi Ming Gusset & Sasha Racket
Series: sasha week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112573
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26
Collections: Sasha Week 2021





	now you know me (and i'm not afraid)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owlinks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinks/gifts).



> enjoy happy day 6 of sasha week!
> 
> title is from 'im still here' by johnny rzeznik bc i am and always will be treasure planet trash

The girl sitting in the chair across from Bi Ming looks like she’s carrying the weight of the world on one shoulder and a massive chip on the other. She’s young, maybe about 16 years old, rail-thin ( _ too  _ thin) and nearly deathly pale, with her dark hair, shorn short and uneven by an unskilled hand, hanging lifelessly around her face. A product of Other London, sat in his shop like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world but there.

Any time Bi Ming moves she shifts, uncomfortable, and he realises that she’s tracking him with her gaze, almost like she’s waiting for him to advance on her. He does his best to hold still, to telegraph his movements before he actually does so, and it seems to at least help her be a  _ little  _ bit less on edge.

“So, you understand the terms of the agreement?” Rakevine says, stood in the corner like the ominous, overdramatic bastard he always has been. Bi Ming’s known him for  _ years; _ the circles that they move in have always overlapped, and Bi Ming considers him one of his closest friends. He’s also the benefactor to this girl, who’s sullenly glaring at the floor with her arms crossed over her chest. There’s a… haunted aspect to her. She’s someone who’s had to experience tragedy and trauma at far too young an age, just like all of the other poor souls who had to learn how to survive the streets of Other London before it could eat them alive. It makes his heart ache - Other London has long been known as the place you survive, not the place you live in, but no one who has any sort of power has ever cared about it enough to dedicate resources to the place. 

“She’s to be my apprentice, yes?” he asks, and Rakevine nods, silently. “Honestly, old friend, I didn’t think I was so old as to have you trying to push me out already!” He laughs, and Rakevine even cracks a smile. It’s rare - rarer these days, ever since Barrett made his first true (failed) move against him. 

“You need to teach her everything you know,” Rakevine says. “Our, hm.  _ Mutual friends  _ have a vested interest in her, and this is a valuable part of her education.”

Bi Ming snorts. “Mutual friends,  _ honestly _ . They’re more your friends than mine, and more of a  _ client  _ to me than anything else.”

“You know who I mean,” Rakevine says. “They believe that Sasha here will benefit from a tutelage under yourself, owing to your particular… skills.”

“Appraising?” Bi Ming asks, intentionally trying to wind him up, and Rakevine presses his lips together tightly. 

“Among other things,” he says, stiffly. Bi Ming smiles. 

“It should be a simple task,” he says, giving her an encouraging look. She still doesn’t raise her head, but Bi Ming is sure that she hasn’t missed a single trick. She may be playing the part of the sullen teen, but there’s a sharpness to her, underneath all the masks. “It’s been a few years since I’ve had an apprentice. I’ll teach her the trade as best I can.”

“Thank you, old friend,” Rakevine says, and claps Bi Ming on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to have to be so formal about these events, but… well, there is an established procedure that we must respect. I’ll be back to check up on Sasha’s progress every so often, as long as you don’t mind me stopping by for surprise visits now and again.”

“Honestly, my friend, I would be more worried if you  _ did  _ telegraph your visits in advance, somehow,” Bi Ming says, laughing a bit. “That’s when I know something is truly wrong.”

There’s a beat of silence from the two of them, and even though Bi Ming was mostly making a joke, there’s a level of truth to it as well. The only time that Rakevine had ever -  _ ever  _ \- scheduled a meeting with him, it had been to inform him that there had been an attempt on his life from the very man who, seemingly until recently, had fundamentally owned the girl sitting in front of the two of them. It, well. Hadn’t been a  _ pleasant _ meeting. 

Rakevine clears his throat, a little awkwardly. He grabs his coat off the chair and begins to put it on, already starting to head toward the door. His visits are never long, and Bi Ming hadn’t expected this one to be any different. “Yes, well. Thank you again for this, er. Favour. Do let me know if there are any…” he gives the girl a look, and Bi Ming spares a few seconds to wonder what she must have done while she was in Eldarion’s care to warrant this kind of caution. “Problems.”

“Yes, yes, Rakevine, it’s all well and good, you  _ know  _ you can trust me, now go on,” Bi Ming says, ushering him out of the room and to the door. “I’m sure we’ll become fast friends. I’m not so old that I’ve lost my touch as a teacher!”

“Hm. Of course,” Rakevine says, and then raises his voice a bit. “Goodbye, Sasha. Please behave yourself.”

He’s gone between one moment and the next, disappearing out into the rain. Bi Ming gives a futile wave, and then gently shuts the door behind him, turning back. 

The girl is still sitting in the chair - Bi Ming is almost surprised to see her there. He’d half expected her to flee the second his back was turned. It’s a good sign that she’s stayed - a sign of  _ what,  _ he’s not completely sure, but he’s going to take it positively all the same. 

He sits on the floor in front of the girl, legs crossed, and waits for her breathing to become more even after Rakevine has left.

“Sasha, hm?” Bi Ming says, looking her up and down. 

His carefully neutral face turns into a bit of a frown as he sees the Rackett ring on her finger, a mark of her ties back to Other London. He’d like to inspect it further - with her permission, of course - to ensure it’s not a tracking ring, and just the standard communication device that Barrett forces upon all those in his… employ. 

“Now, I’m not sure what Rakevine told you that this was going to be,” he starts, keeping his voice quiet. “But I don’t intend for this to be a prison for you. My job is to teach you about appraising - something that I think you could be very interested in, if you would let yourself be.”

She doesn’t respond - Bi Ming didn’t expect her to, honestly, so he straightens up, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. 

“If you’d follow me, I can lead you to where you’ll be staying while you’re working with me,” he says, and Sasha eventually stands as well.

He notices how she carries herself - tense and on edge at all times, hands tucked into the folds of her coat. She’s keeping her distance as well - Bi Ming is quite a tiny gnome, but she’s still careful to let him walk a few paces in front of her. This isn’t new behaviour to him - he’s dealt with his fair share of kids traumatised by the life of Other London, and if this makes her feel safe, he’s happy to let her continue.

His flat sits above the store, a small space with a few rooms that doesn’t get much use by anyone other than him. The door has numerous locks, magical or otherwise, and he can feel Sasha watching him curiously as he unlocks everything one by one before pushing open the door into the flat. Extra precaution has never hurt anyone, and Bi Ming does his best not to burn bridges but he isn’t foolish enough to think that no one’s out to get him.

He sweeps into the room as Sasha follows, and shuts the door behind them, all of the locks click automatically back into place.

“Shoes off, please. This is the main room,” he says, sweeping his hand out. There’s a small sofa and armchair in the corner, both arranged around a long table. “And the kitchen,” he adds, leading Sasha down the hallway. The kitchen is simple as well, with a table and two benches on either side. “The loo,” he adds, pointing to a closed door.

He passes his own room, not commenting on it, and then they stop outside the final door in the flat. 

“This is your room, and here’s the key,” Bi Ming says, handing over the small silver key that’s rusting a bit at the edges. Sasha takes it, looking more than a little shocked as it lands in her palm. “I won’t go in without your permission, and I won’t be offended if you lock the door whenever you’re not in there. That’s  _ your _ space.”

She gives him an almost confused look, but clutches the key in her palm as her hand shoots back into her coat. “Er. Thank you,” she says, awkwardly. It’s the first time he’s heard her speak since Rakevine showed up at his doorstep with her trailing along behind.

“No problem at all, love, no problem at all,” he says. “I’m sure you had a long day already, what with all this business, and tomorrow, we’ll get started on your lessons. We can start slow so you aren’t overwhelmed.”

“Oh - okay,” Sasha says, still seeming a bit off-kilter. “Er. Cheers.”

She slips into her room and Bi Ming turns around, waiting until he hears the lock turn in the door. He heads back toward the kitchen to do some more work before heading to bed and wonders absently if she’ll even still be here in the morning.

—

Bi Ming watches on with interest as Sasha rolls one of their most recent finds around in her hands, inspecting it closely. 

The man who brought it to them claimed it was a nexus crystal - Bi Ming is, personally, very underwhelmed by the claim, and is mostly sure that he man is lying. He’s been in the trade for so long at this point, it’s sometimes easy to determine what’s real and what’s not from a look. That’s never stopped him from doing a full appraisal regardless; in his field, the difference between being right or wrong about an object's value can sometimes be life or death. He’s learned caution over the years, and he would rather confirm something six ways to Sunday than make an educated guess and be incorrect. It’s what’s helped keep him alive both figuratively and literally, and one of the reasons why he’s one of the most respected and reliable fences operating out of Europe.

He’s had a few apprentices as well - none who seemed to understand how important that aspect of the job was, tragically. Sasha is a quick learner, though; what Bi Ming thought would take weeks to pick up, she’d learned in only a few days. She took to this like a fish to water, and Bi Ming has a feeling that she would take to the  _ other  _ aspects of the job just as well, better than any of the other apprentices that he’s had. 

“Any ideas?” he calls, swinging his legs from where he’s perched on the desk. Sasha inspects the object a bit more closely, squinting down at it.

“It’s cloudy,” she replies. “But that’s easy enough to fake with magic, innit? The white’s not rubbing off, so that’s not paint or anything else. I don’t see any marks that would mean it’s a forgery, but I think I need to look at it a bit more closely to decide.”

Bi Ming hops off the desk and heads over to the closet in the corner. “We’ll need to determine its authenticity before tomorrow morning - I have a client who’s interested, but they are very impatient and don’t like to be kept waiting. If this is a fake, it will be better to let them know as soon as we do.”

“...I thought you were an appraiser?” Sasha asks, and Bi Ming… pauses to consider the question.

“I… am,” he says, choosing his words very carefully. Rakevine had said that he wanted Sasha to learn all the tools of the trade, but a few weeks in has made Bi Ming wish he could do more to keep Sasha from having to enter his world. She’s already seen so much, and she’s still only a child to him. “That just isn’t the... only aspect of my career. I’m sure you were aware that there was  _ more  _ to this whole appraising business. You’re a smart girl.”

Sasha preens a bit at the compliment. “I mean - Rakevine said this would be training me for something, I didn’t - I mean, he didn’t just need me to know if his jewels were real, so I figured there had to be something more.”

“See?” Bi Ming says with a smile. “I knew you were smart. My job is - well, it comes with its own risks and rewards, but mostly, I’m the person who people come to when they have something to sell  _ or  _ when they want something to buy.”

“You’re a fence,” Sasha says, and Bi Ming winces. 

“Such an outdated term, but… yes, more or less,” he says. “I have a number of connections throughout Europe, and, well. The organisation that Rakevine is a part of is one of my… more frequent clients, shall we say. They pay a hefty sum of money to me to keep certain artefacts for their own personal use.”

“Organisation?” Sasha asks, genuinely confused, and Bi Ming realises that she actually doesn’t know  _ why  _ she’s here. Oh, he’s going to throttle Rakevine the next time the man comes for a visit.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Bi Ming says, and Sasha gives him a curious look but lets the topic drop. “So, now that we have that out in the open, let’s finish evaluating this gem, hm? Mr Soldis is a  _ trusted _ friend of mine, but if he’s brought me another forgery than we’re going to have to have words.”

He hands the microscope over to Sasha, who takes it carefully and begins to look at the crystal closely. Her tongue pokes out a bit as she inspects it, looking for any cracks that could be used to prove or disprove the crystal’s authenticity. Bi Ming heads over to the counter, content to leave her to her work while he gets some mundane filing out of the way. His pen scratches away on the paper as he takes some notes, and the clock on the wall ticks away while Sasha continues to do her work. 

Out of nowhere, there’s a shattering of glass. Bi Ming jumps, giving a bit of a yell in shock. He claps a hand to his chest, heart racing, and notices that the microscope is on the floor in pieces.

“Goodness - goodness me, that gave me a start. I’ve always been  _ quite  _ easily spooked by loud noises,” he says, laughing a bit, and then his face drops as he looks at Sasha, nearly cowering in front of him.

“Sorry - sorry, sorry,” she’s mumbling, hands shaking as she bends down to clean up the broken glass on the floor. 

“Sasha, don’t -“ Bi Ming takes a step toward her and she flinches; he immediately stops, and instead crouches down in front of her, carefully keeping his distance. “It’s okay, it’s just a tool.”

“I didn’t mean to break it, I didn’t - I can pay for it, I can, just don’t -“ she cuts herself off with a wince as one of the shards slices along her finger. 

“Sasha,  _ stop, _ I don’t want you to hurt yourself any more,” Bi Ming says, and a rush of relief runs through him as she does, freezing in place. Drops of blood splash down on the floor below. “I have a thousand of those in the back, you don’t need to be worried about breaking one. Why, I break one or two nearly every week!”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers again, hands clenching in her lap, and Bi Ming rises, extending a hand out to her now that Sasha doesn’t seem like she’s going to freak out as his touch. “It just  _ slipped,  _ I -“

“It’s truly fine, my dear,” he says, keeping his voice as calm as he can. “Now, let’s get away from this broken glass so that we can clear it up safely, okay?” 

Sasha stands, moving a bit woodenly as she carefully walks around the glass. Bi Ming sits her down on a stool and takes her hand in his, inspecting the cut. 

“Seems to just be a scratch,” he determines, and reaches over the counter to pull out a wrap of bandage that he keeps there in case of emergencies. He wraps a small scrap of it around her finger and tucks the end in, careful to avoid the cut. That should staunch the bleeding, at least, and it will be right as rain by the morning. “Here you go, love.”

Sasha doesn’t take her hand back after he’s done, and Bi Ming glances up at her, confused.

“You’re not… you’re not angry with me?” Sasha asks, as though the idea is foreign to her, and oh, if he ever gets a  _ hand _ on that Rackett man… Bi Ming just squeezes her hands a bit more tightly until she finally looks up and makes eye contact with him.

“Not in the  _ slightest, _ ” he reassures, ensuring that she can see the truth of it in his eyes. “I was more worried about  _ you  _ being hurt than a minor piece of equipment being broken.”

“But I -“ 

Bi Ming shakes his head. “Don’t give it another thought. I have more of them in the back - they’re slippery as an eel, and I’m sure I’ve broken enough in my lifetime to let you off for doing the same.”

Sasha… almost seems like she doesn’t know what to do with that, but there’s  _ something  _ in her eyes. A palpable sense of gratitude, and Bi Ming wishes that he knew how to do more. How to make her believe that she doesn’t need to be  _ grateful  _ to him for not yelling at her. It will come with time, he supposes, so he squeezes her hands one more time and lets them go. 

He heads back toward the cabinet and digs through it for a moment. “Here,” he says, bringing out the different bits of machinery and glass that are needed to build the microscope. “This can be a lesson. I’ll teach you how to build a new one, and then we can continue with the evaluation. Okay?”

Sasha hesitates, but nods, taking some of the glass in her hands. He thinks she might have a small smile on her face, now, and hopes that he can help that grow a bit more by the time her apprenticeship comes to a close.

—

The tall elf stood in the center of his store isn’t a  _ completely  _ unwelcome sight, but she isn’t a welcome one, either. She carries herself with a haughty air, looking down her nose at the different equipment that litters the shelves of the shop. A single gloved finger reaches out and runs across one of the dust-covered collectibles, glancing at it in disgust before she clasps her hands behind her back. 

“Eldarion,” Bi Ming greets with a smile, coming over to her with his arms spread wide. He stops before getting too close, of course, and gives a little bow of his head. 

“Gussett,” she says back, inclining her head as well. “It’s been a few years. You’re looking well. The moustache is larger than ever.”

He beams up at her, but there’s a question burning in the back of his mind, so he’ll have to leave the moustache talk for another time. “I hadn’t heard anything from Rakevine about your visit. How can I be of assistance today? Is this…” he trails off and then winks, “business for  _ you know who  _ or is this just a friendly visit?”

Eldarion rolls her eyes. She never had been able to untwist, even when they all were younger. “I’m sure I have no idea who you’re referring to,” she says loftily, with a warning glance at him. “I’m here for Sasha.”

“Oh!” Bi Ming says, clapping his hands together. “Didn’t think you’d consent to doing Rakevine’s job for him, but I suppose anything’s possible in today’s day and age. Well, Sasha is doing brilliantly. She’s really come along over the past year - I think we may all be working for her someday, haha!”

Eldarion tilts her head curiously. “Excuse me?”

“It’s true,” Bi Ming insists. “She has a knack for this like you wouldn’t  _ believe _ . In only a year, she’s learned more than my last apprentice did in  _ five _ . It’s astounding, really.”

“That’s  _ not  _ what I was questioning, Gussett,” Eldarion says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “I’m not here on behalf of Rakevine. I’m here  _ for Sasha. _ ”

The meaning clicks, and Bi Ming’s smile fades from his face. “Here for Sasha? But - it’s only been a year. Rakevine told me that this would last at least five years, at a minimum.”

“Well, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” Eldarion says, with an imperious look. “She’s learned as much as your last apprentice did in five years. I think it’s fair to say that there isn’t much  _ more  _ you can teach her.”

“We - I - I haven’t even taught her half of the job,” Bi Ming says, scrambling for a reason to turn Eldarion away. “She’s amazing at appraising, yes, but she still has a long way to go. And I need to teach her about, er. Creating and maintaining contacts, finding buyers, who to  _ avoid…  _ we still have so much to do together.”

“Sasha’s schooling with me was never completed. It’s far past time for her to return and learn the rest of what I'm meant to teach her,” Eldarion says. “I understand that you want to keep her here -“

“I don’t want to  _ keep  _ her anywhere,” Bi Ming says. “I would like it if she stayed, yes. Even without the apprenticeship, I… it’s nice to have someone else in the shop.”

He also wants to protect her, as much as he can. It’s as simple as that. 

“Well, I’m sorry, but -“

“Wait,” he realises, shaking his head. “You said you weren’t here on behalf of Rakevine?”

Eldarion nods. “He isn’t aware of my visit, no. As I’m  _ sure  _ you can understand, he’s far too busy to constantly be managing the training of a single girl.”

“So, you’re  _ not  _ here on his orders? He didn’t tell you to take Sasha?”

“As I’ve explained  _ multiple  _ times,” Eldarion starts, but Bi Ming shakes his head. 

“Then you aren’t taking her,” he says. 

Eldarion frowns at him, and he can see the anger slowly rising in her eyes. “You are out of line, Gussett. Her education is the responsibility of  _ my  _ organisation, not a fence working out of London. This is no longer your decision.”

“It’s  _ Rakevine’s _ ,” Bi Ming reminds her. “And you said yourself, he doesn’t know you’re here. This is you working in your own interest. I wonder what he’d have to say if he knew you were cutting Sasha’s training short?”

“You don’t understand the intricacies at play here,” Eldarion says. “I’ll be taking Sasha with me to finish a different training.”

“No,” he says, voice firm, and it’s clear that no one is going to be able to budge him on this, especially not a prissy elf woman. “Eldarion, you know I trust you as an associate, but  _ this  _ is where Rakevine wanted her. You don’t get to come in here and take my dau-  _ Sasha  _ away from me, any more than that awful Rackett man can.”

“...Hm,” Eldarion says, haughty even more than she normally is when she isn’t getting her way. She’s angry as well - Bi Ming is sure that there will be repercussions for denying her in this way, but he holds his ground, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll speak to Rakevine about this… oversight.”

“You do that,” he says, gesturing toward the door. 

With another nasty look in his direction, she leaves. The door gently shuts behind her - of  _ course _ she’s even elegant about storming out - and Bi Ming slumps back against the counter, sighing. 

“You can come out now,” he says to the room at large, tired beyond all reason. 

There’s a beat, and then Sasha drops from the ceiling, landing perfectly in front of him. He jumps a bit, but then blinks over at her. 

“Oh,” he says, and glances vaguely in the direction of the back room. “I thought you were hiding in the cupboard.”

Sasha shrugs. “Seemed a bit obvious, in hindsight. Had a better view up there, in case she, er. Tried anything.”

Bi Ming laughs quietly. “I appreciate the gesture, love, but I can handle my own in a fight.”

Sasha swallows, heavily, and her fists tense up in front of her. “You haven’t seen her angry,” she says, hollow, and Bi Ming wonders  _ just  _ what Eldarion did to her for her to have that look on her face. Eldarion is a petty woman - he knows that much, after all these years of knowing her - but she’s slow to anger. She’s firm, but not to the point of…  _ whatever  _ has made Sasha make that face. He supposes it may be the natural culmination of two incredibly strong, opposing personalities, but he still wishes he knew what happened so that he could figure out why Sasha seems to be this affected by her visit.

“I assure you, my dear, I have,” Bi Ming says, not unkindly. “And she’ll have to do a lot worse than that before she gets to  _ me.  _ Or to  _ you,  _ for that matter.”

Sasha chews on her lips, but some of the anxiety in her pose seems to settle as his words sink in. 

Neither of them mention his almost-slip; he’s sure Sasha caught it, because he hadn’t been  _ quiet _ while telling Eldarion very politely to fuck off. He thinks he’s grateful for it - he hadn’t actually been sure how Sasha would react to hearing it, but the fact that she isn’t saying anything about it is much more reassuring than her telling him to stop. 

“I’m not going to let her take you, you know,” Bi Ming says. “Whatever her or Rakevine say. Your tutelage is  _ my _ responsibility, and only I - or you, for that matter - get to say when it’s done.”

A year ago, a few days after her tutelage had begun, Bi Ming had said something similar, and Sasha had looked like she’d never believe it. Now, something in her face makes it seem like she just might.

“Thank you,” she says softly, and in a flash, bends down to pull him into a tight hug. It’s short - she breaks away before he can put his arms back around her, and after, Bi Ming thinks that it might be for the best. This is the first time she’s ever hugged him, and he’s going to take it as another sign that she’s starting to heal from the trauma of her childhood. 

“Well, I couldn’t let you go anyway,” Bi Ming says, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. “You’re still  _ completely  _ abysmal at telling apart magical and mundane swords, it takes you  _ days  _ to get them done -“

“Oi! I do that even faster than you do, now!” Sasha protests with a laugh, and shoves at his shoulder. “I think you’re out of practice, Mr Gussett.”

“Out of  _ practice?  _ Why, the insolence! You youth today are so disrespectful to your elders today. When I was a younger gnome -“

They continue laughing into the night, Eldarion’s visit fading into nothing more than a bad memory.

—

“No, fold the - yes, yes, that’s correct, well done,” Bi Ming compliments, taking the dumpling from Sasha and setting it carefully in the steamer. “That’s a full set - go set the table, will you love? I’ll start these.”

Sasha nods, giving the dumpling wrappers a nasty look over her shoulder. Bi Ming stifles a laugh, carefully moving the steamer over the boiling pot of water, and sets it down carefully, putting the lid on top. 

It’s funny - Sasha is so dexterous with most things, but dumplings seem to be the sole thing that completely evade her grasp. After nearly two and a half years with Bi Ming, she still hasn’t been able to master the art of properly folding one. It’s something Bi Ming has been teasing her about since she moved in; how she can do so many things so quickly, but a piece of dough completely gets the better of her.

He putters about for a bit, putting back most of the ingredients that they used. There’s still a bit of the filling left, and he grabs some of it while Sasha’s back is turned. 

“I saw that!” she calls, and Bi Ming chokes, coughing on the bit of chicken. 

“You did  _ not,”  _ he calls back, swallowing it quickly. “And even if you  _ did,  _ you can’t prove anything.”

Sasha folds her arms and raises an eyebrow, and Bi Ming gives her the most innocent smile he can. She doesn’t look like she’s bought it for a second; this is another one of the games they play every time they cook dumplings, and one of these days, Bi Ming  _ will  _ get one past her.

Eventually, the faux stand off ends, and Sasha sets the table while Bi Ming digs through his cupboard for some tea. He finds the last shreds of some oolong and shrugs, getting the kettle ready. He’ll have to go to the shops tomorrow and get some more. 

After about ten minutes have passed, he takes the top off the steamer and starts taking the dumplings out, carefully setting them onto a large platter that he carries to the table. 

“Get the stove for me?” he asks, and Sasha scrambles up from the chair, turning the stove down while Bi Ming finds a place on the small table for the platter.

They eat quietly for a bit, Bi Ming complimenting Sasha on getting minutely better at folding. Once most of the dumplings are gone (mostly eaten by Sasha, a happy improvement from her barely eating when she’d first arrived), Sasha leans back in her chair and closes her eyes while Bi Ming finishes up.

“You know… I could speak to Rakevine,” Bi Ming says eventually, pushing the food around on his plate. “If you wanted. We could… I mean, you’re quite the talented apprentice, you know. This position could be made… well, more  _ permanent _ . If that would be something you're interested in?”

“...You mean... I’d stay here with you? I wouldn’t need to end up going back with Rakevine or Eldarion?” Sasha asks, an unreadable look on her face.

Bi Ming nods. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course. I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want, but, well. I’m slightly selfish, really, and don’t fancy losing such a wonderful assistant. I think you could do an amazing job in this position.”

Sasha stares at him like she can’t quite believe it, and then she ducks her head with the slightest smile on her face. “Really, Mr Gussett? You’d do that?”

“Happily!” Bi Ming says. “Rakevine holds my word in high regard, and I think it would be well easy to convince him. I enjoy having you around, Sasha, and don’t much look forward to when our time together ends.”

“Yeah, er. Yeah, that’d be… well good,” Sasha says, and smiles at him. Bi Ming thinks he can count on one hand the number of genuine smiles that Sasha’s given him in their time together, and this just makes it all the more worthwhile.

“I’ll talk to him as soon as I can, then,” Bi Ming says. “If you’re sure?”

Sasha nods, leaning forward. “I, er - yeah, definitely. I. Don’t know what else I’d do, really. I know Rakevine has some sort of plans for me, but, er. I think I’d rather stay with you.”

Bi Ming reaches for her hand and taps it, giving her a wide smile. “I’m delighted to hear that.”

—

Bi Ming jolts awake, confused and bleary as he glances around his room. It’s late; his room is nearly completely dark, apart from the single beam of moonlight that shines in from between the curtains. The clock is ticking on the wall, and he can’t make out the numbers, but if he had to guess, it’s the very early hours in the morning, a few hours before he needs to get up and open the shop.

He glances around again, and can’t shake the feeling. Something’s wrong. He can feel it in his chest, an old sense that he’d learned long ago not to ignore. He carefully gets up, grabbing a small dagger from the side of his bed. There’s no strange sounds that he can hear, not from the flat nor from the shop, but that doesn’t automatically mean that nothing’s gone wrong. 

Leaving his own room quietly, he glances left and right. The hallway is completely empty and dark. He pauses outside Sasha’s door - nearly four years in and he’s never violated his promise to enter her room without her permission. There’s no sound coming from her room either - not even the sound of an open window, so he knows she’s not out and about - and he continues on his way. 

His front door opens much easier from the inside than the outside, and he clutches his dagger more tightly in his grip as he silently walks down the stairs. He pauses just before the open doorway, pressing himself against the wall to wait and listen.

It’s silent in the shop, apart from a single creak of a floorboard, easily explained away as the old wood creaking in the weather. Except. Bi Ming’s lived in this place for nearly forty years, now, and he’s never,  _ never  _ heard a floorboard creak in the shop. 

There’s someone in the shop. He’s sure of it. He peeks out of the doorway and then hides again, quickly, as he spots a shadow in the corner. Whoever they are hasn’t spotted him yet, but it’s only a matter of time. With the dagger clutched in his hand, he sneaks behind the counter, careful to be silent. The figure in the room doesn’t notice him, a blessing, and so Bi Ming situates himself, getting ready to lunge when it passes by him. 

The opportunity comes sooner than he thought, and he takes the advantage.

The figure screams as Bi Ming’s dagger stabs into the side of his thigh - or, well.  _ Something.  _ It’s too malleable to be flesh, and it twists in a distinctly nonhuman way as it dances away from

him and hisses. Bi Ming dashes out from behind the counter, slashing at it again, but it dodges this time, bending in a way that shouldn’t be possible. 

The cowled figure hisses and snarls at him, and Bi Ming slashes out at it once more, managing to slice a decent gash across an arm. It takes advantage of the attack and counters, knocking him to the ground. 

A shape drops from the ceiling, landing in front of him, and Bi Ming would know Sasha’s stance  _ anywhere.  _ She moves like a flowing wave, just as dangerous too, as she lunges forward and effortlessly flips over the creature before stabbing it in the back. The dagger sticks out of the thing’s back, and Sasha pulls another one out from her cloak and throws it at the creature’s arm. It misses by a hair and clatters to the ground, and in a flash, she has two more in her hands, effortlessly moving around the shop as she continues battering at the creature.

Bi Ming watches in a mix of shock and worry; he didn’t even know Sasha  _ had  _ that many daggers, although the knowledge isn’t that surprising if he’s being honest with himself. The creature hisses again, striking out, and something sharp glints from under its cloak sleeve as it connects with the side of Sasha’s head. She lets out a cry of pain, stumbling away. He grabs a candlestick from one of the shelves, hoping that will do the trick, and charges back into the fray, giving Sasha a moment’s reprieve as she clutches at her head. It connects with a solid  _ thud,  _ landing square on the creature’s back, and it screams in pain. 

It turns and gives him a look full of hatred, eyes glowing under its cowl. The figure vanishes with one last snarl, charging through the door and into the night, and Bi Ming and Sasha both stand in the center of the room, breathing heavily with exertion. They look at each other - Sasha holding her two wickedly sharp daggers, Bi Ming holding a priceless candlestick - and a sense of relief sweeps through the room. 

It doesn’t last - caution is a learned skill, and one that both of them are intimately familiar with. They don’t need to speak about it - Bi Ming goes over to the door and Sasha goes over to the windows, double- and triple-checking the locks and the wards. It takes some time; Bi Ming has been in the business for far too long to leave things up to chance. Eventually, both of them finish with their work, and the warning bells ringing through Bi Ming’s head start to quiet as he can feel a sense of security reassert itself. 

Sasha takes a step back from the window but stumbles a bit and catches herself on the desk. Her face is pale, ashen, and her hand comes up to clutch at her head.

“Are you okay?” Bi Ming says, scurrying over to her and taking her hands gently in his. There’s a small scratch on her forehead that’s dripping blood - it doesn’t seem to be deep, but it’s bleeding as heavily as head wounds always do. “Let’s get this seen to, hm? Come along, love.” He leads her back up the stairs to the kitchen and sits her down at the table, wringing his hands as he putters about. “Now, where did I put that rag… hm. Oh, of course! And, Sasha, don’t move.”

There’s a very quiet  _ creak  _ as Sasha sits back down on the chair, clearly having been caught trying to sneak away without him noticing. He grabs the rag he’s found and runs the faucet, filling one of his ceramic bowls with warm water. He tests the water himself; it’s not too hot, but won’t be a shock of cold to Sasha either, so he carries the bowl over to the table and sits in the chair next to Sasha. 

“That was reckless,” he lectures, wringing out the rag and giving Sasha a look. “This is going to sting.” 

She nods, and he dabs at the cut on her head. She winces at the first touch, but then seems to get used to it. Bi Ming cleans the blood off of the side of her face and carefully presses it against the cut, cleaning the blood there too. It’s mostly clotted over by the time he’s finishing, but he keeps an eye on it for a few more moments to be sure it’s not continuing to bleed. 

He grabs a bandage and some adhesive from the cabinet under the sink and returns to the table, fitting it over the cut on her head. 

“Hm. Nothing a good healing potion shouldn’t fix up. Won’t even leave a scar, if you’re lucky,” he says, and drops the bloody rag back into the water. He stands up and begins to clean up, putting the bandages back and washing out the bowl. 

There’s silence behind him, and he realises that Sasha hasn’t moved from the table. He turns back, and notices that she’s in the same position as before, eyes cast downward. Bi Ming goes over and sits back down, concerned. 

“Sasha?” he asks, reaching out to rest his hand on hers. “You alright, dear?”

“...I, er. I can leave, if you want,” Sasha says, leaning back away from his touch. 

Bi Ming stares at her, incredulous. “Why do you think I would want you to do that?”

“I - I must have led them here somehow,” Sasha mumbles. “Barrett - he must have sent them after me, he must have figured out where I  _ was _ , he -“

“Oh, my dear,” Bi Ming says, shaking his head and taking her face in his hands. “This was  _ not  _ your fault, alright? I’ve made my fair share of enemies in this trade, and it’s more likely that they were after me for a trade gone wrong than they were after you.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and Bi Ming pulls her into a hug.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says fiercely. “And I won’t have you thinking it was. I’m just glad you’re alright. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d gotten hurt.”

“You - you don’t want me to go?” Sasha asks, and her arms come up around him to return the hug. She’s trembling, slightly, and Bi Ming hugs her tightly.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “Don’t think of it for another moment.”

She holds him a bit more tightly as well, and neither of them speak for a while as they hug. 

“Now,” he says eventually, pulling back and setting a hand on her shoulder. “What do you say I make us both some tea, and then we can get back to bed? It’s quite late, and we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Sasha says, wiping surreptitiously at her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds - well good, Mr Gussett, I - thanks.”

He smiles at her and then stands, bustling about the kitchen as he puts the kettle on. 

—

Bi Ming knows it’s going to happen before it does. He can sense Sasha’s restlessness and nervous energy, and he makes his peace with it before she can bring it up to him. It’s not how he would prefer things, but he promised to only keep her here for as long as she wanted to be here, and he isn’t going to go back on his word now. 

“I have to go.” She announces it over breakfast one morning, a hint of hesitancy in her tone as she clearly waits for his reaction. 

He smiles at her, tinged with an edge of sadness. “I had a feeling this would be coming before long. I’m a bit sad to have been right.”

“You - you knew?”

Bi Ming shakes his head. “I wasn’t completely certain, but… it’s been nearly six years, Sasha, I like to think I know you enough by now to know the direction your thoughts are spinning in.”

“...Oh,” Sasha says, and sits back in the chair again. “You aren’t cross with me?”

“No, my dear, no. All those years ago, I told you that this arrangement would only continue as long as you felt comfortable and happy here, and I’m certainly not going to go back on my word now.”

Sasha’s mouth turns down in a frown. “I - I  _ am  _ happy here, Mr Gussett, that’s not… I don’t want you to think I’m leaving just ‘cause I’m… dunno, unhappy, or something. S’not it at all, I just -“

“You have to go,” Bi Ming says, kindly, and Sasha nods. “I may not look it now, but I was young once, too. I know the feeling of wanting to get out and see the world while you still can.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, twiddling her thumbs in her lap. Bi Ming reaches out and rests his hand on hers, waiting until she looks up at him.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, Sasha,” he says, and the look of relief that she gives him speaks volumes. 

He doesn’t ask her where she’s going to go, or why - as much as he wants to, he knows that Sasha wouldn’t tell him. And he doesn’t want their last moments together to be marred with half-truths and comforting lies. Sasha’s an adult now - she’ll always be some version of his child, regardless, even if he never truly said it aloud. 

She sets a date three days after her announcement - enough time for Bi Ming to readjust to the shop being quiet again, enough time for her to pack her bags and figure out what she should take and what she should leave, enough time for Bi Ming to already start to miss her.

The last dinner they have together is dumplings - an old staple for the two of them - and for the first time ever, Sasha folds hers correctly. 

“You’ve finally gotten it,” he says, with a watery smile that he tries to hide. “I really don’t have anything else to teach you, hm?”

Sasha bites her lip. “You still do it better, though.”

He laughs a bit. “Well, you’ll have to come back and visit so that I can show you again, sometime.”

“...I’d like that,” Sasha says, and they continue folding the rest in a comfortable silence.

The next morning comes sooner than Bi Ming would like - he’s prepared as much as he could for this moment, although preparing hasn’t made it any easier. Sasha is leaving with the break of dawn - although, Bi Ming convinced her to stay for a brief breakfast.

The goodbyes are meant to be kept brief but they, like many things, end up getting away from the two of them. Sasha brings her stuff downstairs - nothing more than a rucksack (she never had learned how to travel anything other than light), filled with healing potions and food and whatever else Bi Ming had convinced her to stuff in there.

“Here,” he says, and hands her a messily wrapped package. “It’s not the prettiest thing in the world - I was never the best at wrapping presents, as you well know. I hope this brings you some help on your journey.”

“I thought you promised no presents?” Sasha says, but she doesn’t make an effort to give the gift back, so Bi Ming just gives her a cheeky smile.

“Go on, open it,” he says. 

She carefully pulls the wrapping back and pauses, hand stilling as she spots what’s inside. It’s an intricately carved dagger; Bi Ming had been saving it for her birthday, but since she’s leaving, this has seemed like as good a time as any to hand off the gift. 

“Do you like it?” he asks. 

“I... can’t take this,” she mumbles, testing the balance in her hands. “It’s - it’s amazing, I - how did you - where did you get it?”

“Called in a favour with a friend,” he says, grinning ear to ear as Sasha effortlessly flips it in her hand. “It’s more durable than the kind of knives you’ll get at the market, and it’s got a special edge that does a bit more harm than your normal dagger would. So, can I assume you like it? And, no, I won’t be taking it back. It’s yours.”

“It’s perfect,” she says, carefully sliding the dagger back into its sheath and tucking it into a spare spot on her belt. “I’m going to miss you, Mr Gussett,”

“And I you, Sasha,” he says, and she initiates the hug this time. She kneels down and her arms come around him in a tight grasp; her head burrows into his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”

“You always have a home here,” he says, wishing for a moment that he didn’t have to let her go. “Never forget that.”

They break apart eventually - if Sasha doesn’t get going to…  _ wherever  _ she’s headed soon, she’ll end up losing most of the day to traveling. Bi Ming walks her to the door, and they stand there for a moment, neither of them wanting to be the first person to make a move. 

“Now, If I don’t get a letter from you once a month at  _ least _ ,” he lectures, waggling his finger at her. “I swear, Sasha, I’ll find you myself and we’ll have to have words.”

“I promise, Mr Gussett,” she says, inclining her head. “Once a month. Or else.”

“See that you don’t forget,” he says, and Sasha smiles. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Another hug, only a little bit teary this time, and then she’s on her way, walking backward and waving to Bi Ming before she turns and disappears down another street.

“She’ll do wonderfully,” Bi Ming says to himself, standing at the doorstep until long after Sasha’s gone. He misses her so much already, but he knows that they’ll meet each other again someday. It’s only a matter of time.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to noot for reading this and leaving me many nice comments ily <3 
> 
> love bi ming so MUCH n he doesn't get enough appreciation as probably being the first person to teach sasha that she has worth outside of being a tool for others


End file.
